So, before I came to Altaiskoye, I was flirting with one of life's essential questions: to beard, or not to beard? I remember when I first got to St. Petersburg, there were a number in my group who thought they should just grow out beards the whole time they were in Russia. Russians, they reasoned, all have beards, so why not blend in? In point of fact, beards don't seem to be particularly popular in Russia, particularly among the youth, who are, invariably, clean-shaven. I was one of the people who thought it to be a stupid idea in the first place, based as it was on kitsch and misinformed stereotypes, and thus didn't break from my usual regime the whole time I was there. Plus, I was single... at least theoretically, there would be somebody to try to impress. But before I came to Siberia, I gave the question some serious consideration: I don't particularly like the way I look with a beard (there was only one other time when I grew one -- two years ago on a dare, only for a month), and I wouldn't like to subject a loved one to it either (although Maddie is amazingly supportive of what I choose to do or not do with my facial hair), but shaving is a hassle, particularly when they don't have your razorblades in Siberia (they're expensive enough in the US), you have no idea where to buy them, and you don't have hot water. Also, I'm not particularly trying to impress anyone... my most constant companions are a fifty-something year-old woman and elementary- and middle-school-aged kids living in an area where men usually don't take care of themselves as well as in America anyway (which I'm told is the result of population dynamics... there's a larger percentage of females here, which means that women have to dress up and try to compete for men, while men act like slobs and die young, which only keeps the cycle going). Still, I use deodorant and don't wear the exact same clothes two days in a row, which puts me well ahead of the curve.
So here I am now, fully bearded, although I do shave my neck and clean it up, so as at least not to seem a total slob. So far, reactions have been surprisingly favorable: my friend Isabel, another volunteer who teaches in the next village over, said she liked it, although she almost didn't recognize me at first, and one of my students, feeling it, said it was soft and that it suited me. It's funny that, quite contrary to stereotype, my beard is something of a novelty, and I have yet to see a single man in Altaiskoye with even so much as a mustache. The other day, I gave my students the task of drawing a picture of a classmate, and many of them decided to draw me. I was surprised to see pictures of myself with a beard, and even more surprised that, in general, the pictures bore a striking resemblance to the late, great Billy Mays -- peace be upon him. I guess my friend B'Hawk was right: I just need to start yelling everything I say, and the transformation will be complete.
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